


Lying to Myself

by DarkFlowerDreaming



Series: Home and Happiness [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Denial, M/M, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-08 12:17:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkFlowerDreaming/pseuds/DarkFlowerDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Live Another Life"<br/>After leaving on the press tour, Tom has second thoughts about his talk with Loki. But what will he find once he comes back?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The character of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston is based on a real person, and no offence is intended.
> 
> Thanks to Batsutousai for betaing.

Tom was lying on the bed of his hotel room, occasionally tossing and turning. The press tour for his movie was almost over; only one week was left. The tour had been very exciting overall, the fans were nice and the interviews fun. Yet, despite enjoying it very much, something was nagging the actor in the back of his mind, almost disappearing by day, only to come back to haunt him at night, leaving him sleepless until the exhaustion of the tour finally took its toll on him. 

After leaving on the tour, following the...discussion he had had with Loki, Tom had tried to give the former god some space. He knew full well how it felt when you confessed your love for someone, only to be let down, gently or not. So the actor had abstained from calling, and apart from a message that he had safely arrived at his first destination, had not texted the other for about two weeks in order to give him some space. 

In that time, he also had not received any calls or texts from Loki, which at first he had found understandable. But now he grew more worried with each day that passed without any sign of the former god. It had almost been a month now that Tom had not heard from his friend. At least, he hoped they still were friends. Tom knew how broken Loki was, and he feared that he had made it worse. His intentions had been pure, but seeing the other so hurt after he had told him he was not interested in him that way, Tom had become extremely worried, especially due to the lack of communication. 

What made his predicament even worse, was that he caught himself imagining what would have happened if he had reciprocated Loki's feelings. It had started only a few days after they parted. In his mind, he often saw the former god beaming at him, rushing in for a hug or possibly more. 

Strangely, Tom was unfazed at the fantasies of kissing Loki. Over several days now, he had caught himself daydreaming of little things like this. Yet, every time he snapped back into reality, it hurt. After all, how could he know if he was still Loki's friend, much less if the other would still want him as a lover. 

He could kick himself. He had wanted somebody to love and to be loved by for several years now, and the one time it had been in his grasp he had not realised that he, in fact, reciprocated the feeling. 

If his smiles started to grow more sad and less frequent, Tom was not exactly surprised. He dared not imagine how Loki must feel, having realised the weight of his feelings probably months prior. 

 

The first thing Tom did once he was back in London - after bringing his luggage home - was running to the bookshop Loki worked at. If his schedule had not changed, he would be in. At least the actor hoped as much. 

Yet, once he entered the shop, entirely out of breath and startling an elderly lady who had just wanted to leave, the former god was nowhere to be seen. The owner, who recognised him thanks to his formerly frequent visits, looked at him with a mix of sympathy and curiosity. 

"He isn't here. He quit a few weeks ago. Didn't come in for a few days before that. You wouldn't happen to know why he perpetually looked like someone had punched him in the gut, would you?" 

Her tone was not harsh, but Tom flinched nonetheless. "I... I'm sorry" he said, looking down. "We, well... we had a sort of argument..." That earned him a suspicious look. 

"Then maybe you should go and sort this out. He looked completely heartbroken the few times I've seen him since. Not that you look much better." 

Tom flinched again. "I'll try. I'm sorry that he quit. I know how much he l...loved this work. I'll see if he's at home." 

One last wistful look. "Good luck. I wanted to check up on him a few times, but he doesn't answer his phone or his door. Maybe he'll do it for you, though." 

With that, Tom left the shop, apologising even more. But her words had left a strange taste in his mouth. It only added to the feeling of dread that was pooling in his stomach. 

The entire way to Loki's flat, he pondered the shopkeeper's words. Why was Loki not answering his phone? He was pretty reclusive, but once you knew him better, he became more open. Tom really hoped that the other was alright. Certainly he would not have... "Oh, please, no!" Tom pleaded in his mind, praying more fervently than he ever had. He broke into a sprint. 

"Oh God, please, please don't let him be..." 

 

The actor banged loudly on the door to Loki's flat. He did not care whether he disturbed the neighbours. He had to know if Loki was alright. 

After several minutes of silence, a woman who Tom recognised as the landlady came down the stairs. "Stop making so much noise! The flat is empty." 

Tom was stunned. "...What? But, but what about Loki? Where is he?" 

"He moved out a few days ago. Before you ask, I don't know where to. Said something about going home. He even left the entire set of furniture for future residents. Didn't even want something for it. Now, if you would be kind enough to leave before I'll call the police..." 

The actor slowly turned and walked down to the main door. Too shocked to even thank the woman, he stumbled out of the house. He remembered calling a cab to get him home. He did not remember much more. 

When he awoke the next morning in his bed, the suit he had worn crumpled and his bed in disarray, all he could think of was why Loki had disappeared without a word, and if "home" really meant a place so far away that he would never see him again. 

Curling up in his messed up bed, he fell asleep once more, crying. He could not deal with the knowledge that he would never be allowed to apologise to Loki, to never set this right. 

That he could never tell him he loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so horribly long, but university stress, coupled with writer's block prevented me from even looking at this for a long time...

Loki was looking down on the gardens below his chambers, tinged in the red hues of the sunset. His garments felt both eerily familiar and alien. Returning here had given him a similar feeling. He was home now, but it did not feel like he was. 

Guards who had once held respect for him—or at least his title—now regarded him with suspicion and, at times, open hostility. Servants avoided him if possible and were almost rude when impossible. His family tried a bit harder to make him feel like he belonged, but as he was not allowed to perform any of his former duties as a prince, his opportunities to see them were scarce, seeing that they had work to do and he chose to remain in his chambers most of the time. 

"As if it were just work. They hate you, they only put up with you for appearance's sake," his mind unhelpfully supplied. Loki had struggled with his decision to return here ever since he had left Midgard, always thinking that it might have been a trap. So far, he was fine, physically at least, and he even had got limited control of his magic back, but the loneliness was heavy on his heart. 

He had fled London to escape his own feelings, thinking that with erasing any possibility to be close to Thomas, it would become easier to forget him. The fact that he loved his family still, despite everything, and the small hope that they actually loved him back, kindled by Tom's words of sympathy and encouragement, had convinced him that he belonged here, not on Midgard. 

But now doubts began to creep into his heart. Did he even belong anywhere? Had a monster like him even a home? Did he deserve one? Did he deserve love of any kind? 

Turning his back to the beautiful greenery stretching out below, he tried to shake these doubts from his mind, and for the time being, he succeeded. Loki turned to one of the massive bookshelves lining the walls of his bedchambers. Some of the books bought on Midgard had found his way there. Among them were those that were considered "classics", and a few “comics” depicting mainly Thor and himself. 

The books Loki brought with him despite his reason and pride telling him not to, were all books that Tom had either bought or had recommended to him, with the exception of a rather old and worn-out copy of a collection of poems by different authors. This one had belonged to Tom before, but he had gifted it to Loki, claiming that it held a wide array of poems for all kinds of moods and emotions, and that it would certainly help Loki through his sadness, as it had done for Tom himself when he had been younger. At first, Loki had rejected such an important gift, but the actor had practically begged him to take it. In the end, Loki had accepted it, and once he had been alone that night, he had actually read it until he fell asleep with the book in hand and tears in his eyes. Now, he contemplated reading it again, as he had done several times during his stay on Midgard. But the thought of seeing all the scribbles and notes Tom had written in it, his thoughts and hopes, sometimes prayers, was too much for Loki to bear at the moment.

Instead, he turned to the books he had gotten long before his exile. The ones that he liked the most were on the same shelf in his bedchambers. There were spell books containing explanations on the principles of magic and some volumes describing the flora and fauna of most of the realms, including Midgard, although these were not nearly as detailed as the ones he had read while there. They held a special place in his heart, mostly because they had been gifts, usually from Frigga, but, scattered throughout the shelves, were ones from Odin. 

However, the most important book he owned – the first spell book he'd ever received, from both of his parents – sat on the small table near his bed, a position it had retained in Midgard. Hoping that he could find new ways to deal with the restrictions on his magic, Loki decided to read the book that was only held together by an old spell he had once used to preserve it. While he could still feel his magic inside him, the amount of it he could actually access was severely limited, which was another great source of distress for his already stricken mind. Having no way to use his magic on Midgard had been even worse. 

After Loki had settled down to read the book in bed, he managed to lose himself in the technical, scientific side of magic. Once he had gone over the basic spells, he set the book down and spent the rest of the time until he fell into a surprisingly deep sleep mulling over the spells. 

_Warmth and the soft scent of lavender enveloped Loki’s senses. There were small gasps, and somebody moaning his name, followed by a light scratch of scruff against his cheek._

_“I’ve waited so long for this...” the voice, familiar and very welcome, whispered the words in his ear before Loki felt soft lips on his own, and he gave in to the need to taste the other. Slowly, Loki became aware of the body pressed against his, slick with sweat, almost burning where skin met skin. He let his hands roam, shifting impossibly closer to the other man—no, to Thomas._

_“Hmm, Thomas... My Thomas.” Carding his hand through moist curls, Loki kissed Tom so deeply he had to nuzzle his face in Tom’s neck, gasping for air. He could feel Tom caressing him, every inch he could reach, before slowly wrapping his hand around their straining erections. The last thing Loki remembered was Tom moaning his name._

He awoke in the morning, alone, his face hot. His garments clung to him and he felt an uncomfortably wet patch in his trousers. Embarrassed and suddenly very lonely, he jumped out of bed and ran into his bathing chambers, desperate to scrub the strangely lingering feeling of warmth and need from his skin. Apart from the one incident in his bathtub, he had never really thought of Tom in such a way. 

He stripped, almost ripping off his soiled clothes and tossing them into a corner. Standing under the magical water stream spraying out of the wall, he muttered to himself, “Argh! Why is this stupid mortal haunting my dreams that way? I don’t need him, or his body! He doesn’t care for me anyway! He... he probably hates me, only ever put up with me because of this role!” Loki spat the last word like it was poisoned. However, as fast as his anger about Tom had risen, he could feel it drain out of him again. He was left, once again, with self-hatred and doubts. 

“How could I have ever thought that he’d l–” Biting his knuckles hard enough to draw blood, Loki forced himself not to finish the thought. This had been nothing more than a small slip. He just needed time, and then the only thing reminding him of the mortal would be the books. Loki would continue to live, far longer than Thomas. 

“I don’t need him.” Loki took a deep breath. “I DON’T NEED HIM! DO YOU HEAR ME? I DON’T NEED YOU, THOMAS!” he screamed, his frustration and anger and grief resonating from the chamber’s walls, until the only sounds left were the splashing of water and a soft echo of “Thomas” reverberating through the room. 

Relieved, but also strangely exhausted, Loki stepped away from the spray, grabbing a towel. Scrubbing off the water, he tried to fight the sudden emptiness he felt, as if all of his emotions had left him with the scream. Confused, he wrapped another dry towel around his hips and left the room. 

There, he was greeted by Odin, Frigga and Thor, who, judging by the looks on their faces, had heard his outburst in the bath. Loki inclined his head in greeting, but before he could break the awkward silence that had unfolded, Frigga spoke up, her face lined with worry, “Loki, dear, are you alright?” She stood from a recliner she'd been seated on, and approached her younger son, unfazed by his state of undress. Gently laying a hand on his cheek, she looked into his eyes, as if searching for something. 

Not being able to maintain eye contact for long, Loki smiled and lightly brushed off her concerns. “Of course, I’m fine, Mo- My Queen.” Biting his own tongue when he saw her reaction—a shadow crossed her face for a second—to his almost slip of the tongue, he motioned towards his bedroom. “Can whatever has brought you all here wait until I am dressed more appropriately?” 

Thor and Odin, who had both noticed Loki’s unwillingness to call Frigga his mother, exchanged a glance. Odin then said, “Loki, you have been very reclusive ever since you returned. I have decided to bestow some of your former duties on you, so that you will leave your chambers more often. My dear Frigga has decided to celebrate this with a meal in your honour, after which we will discuss the specifics.” His tone was not demanding, but there was no doubt that this was an order, from a king to a prince, and from a father to his son, as well. 

“I- of course, I am honoured.” The lie—or was it even one—left Loki’s lips easily. While the prospect of facing people that were possibly hostile towards him, especially without his magic, made him uneasy, he welcomed the thought of spending time with his family, even if it was hard for him to even call them that. “Let me just get dressed. I’ll be ready momentarily.” 

By the time all four left for the great dining hall, Loki had banned all thoughts of Tom from his mind. He did not need a mortal. The mere chance that he might reconcile with the people he had loved for so long was enough now. (At least, that was what Loki wanted to believe.)


End file.
